


Defying Avalon

by Gehayi



Category: The Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackmail, Defiance, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Spitefic, child custody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:11:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gehayi/pseuds/Gehayi
Summary: Seven years ago, Morgaine gave a romantic, infatuated young woman a lust potion in exchange for a promise. Now Elaine is married to Lancelet and has given birth to a boy and two girls--and Morgaine has arrived at Elaine's home (in Lance's absence) to claim five-year-old Nimue for Avalon. But Elaine knows more about Avalon than Morgaine would like--and this Mama Bear isn't giving up without a fight.





	Defying Avalon

**Author's Note:**

> The italicized passage at the beginning and the few italicized sentences scattered throughout are quotations from _The Mists of Avalon_. The passage beginning _"If you refuse"_ is from Book III Chapter 12. _How can the knowledge of the Great Ones be committed to anything made by human hands?_ is from a run-on sentence in Book I in the Morgaine Speaks interlude after Chapter 11, which provides a few details about Morgaine's training in priestesshood. Likewise, _the spell of the drugs which loosed the mind from the body, sick and retching_ and _some lessons were of terror_ come from that Morgaine Speaks chapter.

_"If you refuse," Morgaine's voice was as quiet as ever, "when Lancelet comes home, he shall hear from me how this marriage was made, how you wept and begged me to put a spell on him so that he would turn from Gwenhwyfar to you. He thinks you the innocent victim of my magic, Elaine, and blames me, not you. Shall he know the truth?"_

A sardonic smile gracing her lips, Elaine gazed at Morgaine. "He already does. I told him of my involvement on our wedding night."

Morgaine stared, goggle-eyed. That was impossible. This soft Christian woman who had begged her for help would never have the nerve to tell Lancelet the truth.

"I told him," Elaine continued relentlessly, "that I had begged you for a love charm. He groaned at that, saying that Avalon has cruel notions of what constitutes love and that I need not tell him any more. But I did. I wanted no lies to be between us, whatever else happened. I thought that he would likely hate me, but I had to tell him that I deserved a share of blame. For you told me that he would not be able to stop that night."

The smile vanished as Elaine shivered. "What I did not understand was how your potion would affect him. I thought that it would stir up his passions, that when we...began...he would think I was Gwenhwyfar. But I thought that as the spell wore on that he would see _me_. That he would know me for me, and that he would understand how much I loved him. That his passion would turn to true love.

"I didn't know that it would strip him of all will. That he was fighting it the whole time. And I didn't know how much it would _hurt_." The last word fairly dripped with suppressed screams and bone-deep agonies. Elaine shuddered once more, then folded her arms and stared down at Morgaine, who was suddenly painfully reminded that she was no taller than an eight-year-old girl.

"I wish I had died before conniving with you to rape my husband. Lancelet deserved better than that from me. And from you." 

"It was not rape!" Morgaine shouted, all too aware that Elaine was wearing an expression that suggested she would greatly prefer to forget about customs regarding hospitality and the safety of guests. "It was the fire of life coursing through his veins, the power of the goddess who will not be denied!"

Elaine's expression swiftly swept from one of incredulity and then outrage. "Then your goddess is a demon who strips humans of free will and who revels in our pain," she said, the words falling from her lips like cold stones. "Never will I send any of my children, born or yet unborn, to serve or worship such a creature."

"You made a bargain—"

"So I did," Elaine retorted, "and I told Lancelet about that, too. I thought that you were playing the part from a grandmother's tale; a child as a price is a fairyish sort of thing to ask for. I laughed as I told him, for never in the world did I dream that you had meant it.

"But Lancelet was appalled and sickened, saying I did not know what I had agreed to. And then...then he told me how his mother had cursed him. And he was no older then than Nimue is now."

"Did you think _I_ would curse her?" Morgaine demanded, putting as much scorn into her words as she dared. 

Elaine's reply was matter-of-fact, though the cold rage beneath the surface was audible. "If it served Avalon's purposes? Of course you would." 

For a moment Morgaine thought that Elaine might elaborate...but then she realized that Elaine had no need to imagine details. Thanks to Elaine's truthfulness and Lancelet's memories, both of them knew far more of Avalon than Morgaine would wish non-believers to know. 

"We talked it over for a long time, and finally we consulted with a _dalaigh_ from Ireland, a scholar-advocate who knows the law of the Church and the laws of several lands. And she decided that a bargain made when one person thinks it is a joke is no bargain at all. I did not know that you meant it, so I didn't truly assent to it. And even if I had known...a parent always has the right to change their mind about who fosters a child.

"And under the law of this land, I do not have the right to dispose of the children's guardianship. Only their father does. And he does not consent." The sardonic smile reappeared. "Lancelet left a letter for you in Father Griffin's hands to that effect. He has written out a fresh letter to that effect every year since Nimue was born. You may read it for yourself, if you like, and then sign it to show that you have read and understood it. Father Griffin and my secretary will act as witnesses."

Morgaine forced herself to be calm. "And if I refuse?"

"Then if you try to take any of my children, you will be guilty of kidnapping. And the penalty for kidnapping is hanging, Morgaine. Yes, even for the king's sister, for Lance has asked if the law is to be the same for all, whatever their station, and Arthur replied that laws, crimes, and sentences would be treated the same whether the accused was the High King or the lowliest beggar. I do not think that a low-born fishwife would be treated kindly if she kidnapped a child. Why should _you_ be?"

"And I suppose that Nimue is to be an ignorant fool like her mother, unable to read or play music or—" Elaine's baffled expression infuriated her. "Your son told me that your house priest told her that only men can be priests, because men are made in God's image and women are not. And that she wanted to be a priest when she grew up, and learn to read and write and play upon the harp, and Father Griffin told her that no woman could do all these things, or any of them. Do you deny it?"

"Well," Elaine said, looking faintly amused, "you must remember that Galahad is only a little boy of seven and that his interpretation is somewhat flawed. Nimue did say that she wanted to be a priest today, yes. On other occasions, she has wanted to be a goatherd, a troubadour, a weaver, a traveling actor, one of Arthur's knights, and a martyr in the arena. She's _five_, Morgaine. Her desires change with each sunrise."

"And the priest told her—"

"That it was not permitted under the Roman Rule, though some Catholic churches that do not follow the Roman way have produced women priests and see no wrong in this.. But, he said, Rome did not look with favor on those churches because Jesus had no women as apostles, though he had many female disciples, and some theologians, whom he deems to be wrong-headed fools, believe that men are made in God's image and women are not. He _also_ said that it was not just, for many of those women disciples preached and the world did not fall down, but it was the way things were in the Roman Catholic Church right now and was likely to remain so for some time."

Morgaine scowled at this, wishing that the priest been foolhardy and ignorant. She would have enjoyed telling Elaine that Avalon offered Nimue opportunities that Christianity did not. "And her reading and writing and—"

Elaine sighed. "Nimue is, as I said, five. She wants everything now. She does not understand why she cannot pick up a book and read it flawlessly, or hold a quill or harp and know instantly how to write or play. Father Griffin told her that no girl--or boy, either--could simply do one thing, much less all things, without learning how to do them first. This displeased her, and she threw a tantrum. I sent her to her chambers to calm down, of course. We do not indulge tantrums under this roof." The quelling glance she gave Morgaine suggested that the tantrums of an adult would not be treated with any more leniency than Nimue's.

"What manner of education do you mean for her to have?"

"Latin. Greek. French. Geography. The history of the world, and the history of our own land. Mathematics. Logic. Rhetoric. Natural philosophy. Scripture. Music and astronomy, since she shows a bent for both. She and Gwennie"--a nod at the baby in her arms—"will also learn something of cookery, sewing, embroidery, and how to manage a household. You need not fear for any of my children. All will be thoroughly--and competently--taught. Far more ably than Avalon could teach."

"You dare—!"

Elaine shrugged. "Lancelet says that Avalon is on an island in a swamp in the Summer Country, not in a temple or university in a great city. No scholars or students go there; no musicians seek it out. I've never heard tell of Avalon save when the fires are lit at Beltane and the Avalonian women and children must endure being coerced by whatever man grabs them and pins them down. And they believe that this foulness must happen. So I doubt if it is a center of wisdom."

As Morgaine gasped at such blasphemy, Elaine scrutinized her. "The question, I suppose, is why _you_ believe it's so wonderful."

"You have no idea what Avalon has taught me," Morgaine said haughtily.

"Yes. That is why I'm asking you about it."

"There are Mysteries that I cannot reveal—"

"I didn't ask you to," Elaine snapped, her voice cracking with irritation. "What do I care about your religion's Mysteries? I want to know what you learned as a child."

Morgaine fumbled for words. "Well...how to play on and craft a harp…herblore...and healing lore..."

"I suppose you copied the medical scrolls."

Recoiling at the thought, Morgaine shuddered. "Of course not! _How can the knowledge of the Great Ones be committed to anything made by human hands?_"

"Then you don't write," said Elaine, folding her arms across her chest. "And if writing down lore is forbidden, then Avalon cannot have much to read. In fact," she added, her voice slow and thoughtful, "I don't think I've ever seen you write a letter and send it on to Avalon, and never has anyone sent a missive from Avalon to you. Not even after you were missing for years. It would have been an easy way to tell the priestesses that you were back--" 

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "You _can't_ read or write, can you? And you've never told anyone, because people would ask why Avalon hadn't taught the niece of the Lady of the Lake what the queen learned in Glastonbury Abbey. Which means that Avalon wouldn't have taught Nimue how to read or write, either. You were lying about that, too.

"But if your 'education' didn't involve reading or writing, what were you taught?"

Morgaine was silent, thinking of _the spell of the drugs which loosed the mind from the body, sick and retching_ and recalling that _some lessons were of terror_\--lessons that she still could not bear to dwell on.

"It matters not," she said curtly. "What does is that you have broken your word after the goddess gave you what you asked for. And she will be avenged on you and your children."

"Will she," retorted Elaine in an unsurprised tone. "Well, _my_ God protects the innocent from spirits that lie and deceive, and His saints and angels do the same, and Lancelet and I will do no less. And now," she added, inhaling deeply, "you had best go." 

She rang a bell, and a tall, gawky page of thirteen or so appeared. "Jaufre, guide the Lady Morgaine to Father Griffin's study and then go and find Sir Lancelet's clerk, Deacon Llewellyn, and bring him there as well. There is a letter that must be read aloud to Lady Morgaine, and she must make her mark on it once the reading is done."

Jaufre nodded. "And after that, my lady? Should I guide her to her room?"

"No," Elaine said with quiet finality. "She will not be staying. My lord would not be pleased, were she to remain. Nor would I."

Morgaine gaped at her. "But...but I am your husband's kinswoman!"

"No longer. Your loyalty is only to Avalon, is it not? You have said so a thousand times in ten thousand ways this afternoon. It would be folly to pretend that you would deal honorably with us or ours."

"But," Morgaine wailed, "where am I to go?" It was pouring outside, and surely Elaine wouldn't refuse hospitality on such a miserable day—

"I do not care," snapped Elaine. "But you'll not stay here or in any town on our lands, or in any home or holding of our vassals. And not in any barn, byre, or pigsty, either. You are not welcome in Listinoise, now or ever again. Do I make myself clear?"

**Author's Note:**

> In the book, Morgaine's blackmail succeeds and Nimue is taken from her mother. She then spends the next twelve years of her life in solitary confinement, forbidden to speak save with the permission of her superiors, and is eventually used as a honey trap to enchant Kevin the Merlin. His crime? Daring to remove Avalon's artifacts from its treasury and take them to Camelot, where they will be used to serve humanity, rather than allowing them to drift, with Avalon, into another dimension. Seventeen-year-old Nimue falls in love (or rather, in lust) with the sixtysomething Kevin, and she is devastated by her part in his betrayal and execution...so much so that she drowns herself. No one even mourns her; the book states that _Morgaine, stunned with grief, could not find it in her heart to regret that Kevin had not gone alone into the shadowed land beyond death._
> 
> I thought that Nimue deserved better than a life of abuse and manipulation ending in suicide that was treated as good because after all, now Kevin had a post-death companion! Hence, this story.
> 
> ***
> 
> In the book, little Nimue does indeed want to be a priest. Since Bradley seemed unaware of how possible that was in sixth-century Britain, I had to add an explanation.
> 
> Father Griffin's quoted words about the Roman Rule and other Catholic churches are correct. While Rome was fairly firm on things like men-only priests, not all Catholic sects followed Rome in the 500s (the sixth century), when this story is set. Celibacy was not a firm part of priesthood, then, either, nor would it be for several centuries; many priests married and had children. The Irish Catholic Church also had coed monasteries--and yes, this led to children, but this wasn't a scandal. The children were raised by the monastery as a whole, and were provided with educations; apprenticeships; marriages and dowries, if desired; and places in the monastery if a child chose to enter the religious life. 
> 
> Western Catholicism didn't really settle on procedures until the mid-eighth to ninth centuries. 
> 
> ***
> 
> The formal education that Elaine proposes for her son and daughters more or less follows that of medieval universities; Galahad, in the book, is Arthur's decreed heir, and Nimue, both here and in canon, is a curious and intelligent child. Since Book!Avalon constantly insists that Christianity is intent on crushing the talents of women, I thought I'd include a Christian woman who wanted _all_ her children to learn and develop their talents. Book!Elaine is kind; I couldn't really see her being unjust.
> 
> ***
> 
> Lancelet was cursed by his mother, Viviane. She states in Book I Chapter 12 (using Lance's real name rather than his nickname):
> 
> _Viviane answered the unspoken question. "His father would give him land and estates in Brittany, but I saw to it before he was six years old that Galahad's heart would always be here, at the Lake."_
> 
> _She saw the glint in Morgaine's eyes and answered, again, the unspoken. "Cruel, to make him ever discontent? Perhaps. It was not I that was cruel, but the Goddess. His destiny lies in Avalon, and I have seen him with the Sight, kneeling before the Holy Chalice ... ."_
> 
> Spoilers: Lance ends up becoming a Catholic priest in Glastonbury. He never joins the priesthood of Avalon. (And being mind-controlled to love Avalon seems to drive him to go anywhere BUT Avalon throughout the book.)
> 
> ***
> 
> Morgaine is indeed the size of an eight-year-old. Book I Chapter 1 of the book states:
> 
> _Freed of her enwrapping cloaks and shawls, Viviane, Lady of Avalon, was a surprisingly little woman, no taller than a well-grown girl of eight or ten._
> 
> Book I Chapter 12 says:
> 
> _Morgaine was not tall; she would never be that, and in these years in Avalon she had grown as tall as she would ever be, a scant inch taller than the Lady._
> 
> I don't know how tall an eight-year-old girl would have been back then, but the average modern-day eight-year-old girl is about four feet tall (or 1.22 meters, for those on the metric system). Therefore, Morgaine should be about 4'1" (or 1.24 meters).
> 
> You can, I suppose, think of her as an inch taller than your average ten-year-old girl. But the point is, she's not a tall woman--or even an average-sized one. She's child-sized...probably because Bradley was a pedophile and she found the idea of a child-sized adult to be both beautiful and desirable. Elaine--who, like her cousin Gwenhwyfar, is canonically tall--would tower over Morgaine.


End file.
